If Looks Could Kill
by dorothy's ruby slippers
Summary: 1st Place Winner in the Me & Mr. McCarty contest for public vote for outtake/sideshot. This one-shot picks up with Em and Rose after the team dinner party in Chapter 12 and 13 of "Operation: L.O.V.E's Recovery."


**The ME & Mr. McCarty One-Shot Contest **

**Title: ****If Looks Could Kill: a one-shot set in the Operation: L.O.V.E's Recovery Universe and Timeline**

**Summary:**_**This one-shot picks up with Em and Rose after the team dinner party in Chapter 12 and 13 of "Operation: L.O.V.E's Recovery." **_

**Your pen name: dorothy's ruby slippers **

**Primary Players: Emmett & Rosalie**

**Rating: M/NC-17 for violence, language and lemons**

**Word Count: 3,736**

**Beta'd by: Kristi28, loveofescapism, and wuogkat**

**Disclaimer: All hail Stephanie Meyer who owns all Twilight characters, and all not-so-veiled Twi-references and bastardized quotes. Me? I own what's left. **

**All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is my intellectual property. No copying, translation or other reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.**

EmPOV

EmPOV

The obnoxious blaring of the alarm pulls me out of what was a much needed deep, deep sleep. I am not amused, because while details elude me, I'm fairly certain that the alarm interrupted a pretty fan-fucking-tastic dream, and by fan-fucking-tastic, I do mean I was seeing more action than I have since well before the whole Abu Dhabi debacle that landed me and my team in London. A very familiar throbbing sensation confirms my suspicion. As I slowly rouse, the dull thud between my temples alternates in time with my throbbing Johnson and keeps me from opening my eyes as I hit the snooze button. Normally, I'd be up and out the door heading downstairs to get in a little cardio and weight training before heading to work: not today. Today, I roll over groaning audibly as one hand rubs my forehead seeking relief from the relentless throbbing and the other reaches down to adjust my morning wood. _Fuck_.

Rolling onto my back, I stretch and cover my eyes with my forearm as I begin to recall what led me to my current state. _Bella_. Bella and her blasted dinner party, that's why I feel like I've gone toe to toe with a freight train. I have to hand it to B; I didn't think she had it in her. I'll admit that I was concerned that she was going to set off an international incident by pulverizing Cullen the moment she laid eyes on him again. For B, she's showing remarkable restraint. For once, it seems like she's listening to me, and she's actually trying to make this fucked-up situation work. I'm proud of her. At last, I think she may finally be healing. It's been a long, winding, and painful road for B. Now I'm sending her off on a mission that is unlike any that she's been on, and for which, I suspect she is completely ill-equipped. I sincerely hope that I'm wrong. What the ever-lovin' fuck am I thinking?

Perhaps this mission won't wind up being a complete and total clusterfuck of epic proportions. Bella really does seem to be taking the Mission and my warning seriously. She even went so far as to put together a kick ass dinner party for the entire team, and it was a huge fucking success. Bella could seriously give those Top Chef clowns a run for their money. Seriously, if she ever decides to retire, I could see B bringing culture to that small Washington town she hails from, and opening a fuckhot restaurant that dwarfs that little local diner.

Of course, she could have plied everyone with a bit less wine. I do wonder if this is her doing, or the Brit's. Bella is generally not one to drink to excess. She prefers being in control of her faculties. In our line of work, this is critical. Of course, I suppose it didn't help matters that most of us hit a nearby pub before heading to the party. I certainly couldn't blame Bella for that. Yet and still, I have the sneaking suspicion that I won't be the only one dragging tail to Jasper's briefing today. Damnit! B and Cullen are getting their marching orders today. Time is running out. They'll be in the field within 72 hours. I hope her head is in the game, because mine certainly hasn't been, which if I'm honest, is completely unacceptable.

Remembering the briefing brought back other memories from last night, and I groan audibly thinking about just how much I had fucked things up. Shaking my head in disbelief, I am suddenly very grateful that Jasper has the lead on today's briefing. Sharing today's briefing with Rosalie would be awkward as ass after what happened last night.

It was bad enough that I'd tackled her, hoisted her atop the piano, and wailed out the Righteous Brothers with the entire team singing along. Surprisingly, she seemed to take it in stride and even quipped back with Kelly McGillis' line, "How long have you two been doing this act… since puberty?" as I helped her down. Under that prim and professional exterior, Rosie has a sense of humor and could be playful. Who knew? Beauty, brains, and fun when she managed to let her hair down a little: now, that's a lethal combination. Of course, I had to push my luck and find out _just_ how lethal.

As the party started to wind down, folks started to trickle out, and I noticed that Rosalie was leaving alone. I knew she'd arrived with Carlisle, and he'd left hours ago, so she clearly didn't have a ride or an escort. Before she could head out the door, I grabbed her by the elbow and stopped her. She looked down at my hand on her arm, looked up at me, and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow as if to question why I'd put my hand on her.

I cleared my throat, trying to focus because her staggering beauty was distracting me, and making me a bit tongue-tied. I knew I had to man-up, so I filled the awkward silence with a question. "Rosalie, how are you getting home?"

She wobbled slightly revealing that like the rest of us, she'd had a bit too much to drink, as she replied, "The Tube."

Shaking my head in disbelief, I countered, "Alone? At this hour? I don't think so. That can't be safe."

Rolling her eyes at me, she spat back, "Seriously? In our line of work, you're going to lecture me about being out after dark on my own? You send Bella into deadly situations without batting an eyelash. Yet, you're on me about a walk to the Tube, and a short train ride. Unbelievable."

"Don't argue with me, Rosie. Let me get my coat, and give my spare key back to Bella, so she can lock up when everyone leaves, and I'll walk you."

She started to protest, but I silenced her by laying a finger on her beautiful lips, "Not another word. I'll just be a moment."

Within minutes, I was back by her side with my coat on; we made our way down to the street, and headed off in the direction of the Tube station. We chatted and made small talk. She told me that she lived in Knightsbridge, and that she'd moved there shortly after she'd finished her advanced degree and joined Six. I joked with her, and she laughed easily, her eyes dancing as she laughed at my side. As she warmed to me, I found myself undeniably drawn to this version of Rosalie Hale. She was adorable, an adjective I'm certain that she'd take issue with, but she was. I found myself hoping, now that she'd thawed, this version of Rosalie would turn up for work the next day. Knowing what I know now, fat chance of _that_ happening.

Just as she was regaling me with a funny story about her MI6 training with Cullen, her boot caught on a crack in the sidewalk and she pitched forward. Without thinking, on reflex, I wrapped my arms around her and kept her from landing on the cement. I held her tightly against me, and she relaxed into me catching her breath. Damn she felt good in my arms. She fit perfectly. When she looked up at me, I could tell she felt it too. We stood there on the sidewalk; her wrapped in my arms, and just looked at each other as if we were seeing each other for the first time. I felt a shiver run through her body, and I couldn't help but wonder whether she was reacting to the evening chill, or me.

I smoothed her hair with my gloved fingers, and exhaled, "Come on, Rosie. Let's get you home."

She nodded and stepped backward, but I wasn't letting go. I didn't want her falling again. More likely, I didn't want to lose contact with her, so I wrapped my arm firmly around her waist and guided her forward. She didn't protest, or snark at me, so I knew she was also feeling the electricity that was building between us. Neither of us said another word as we made our way to the underground platform to wait for the train with her tucked neatly into my side. When we reached the station, we made our way down the stairs, and I reluctantly released her as we made our way to the platform.

As we stood silently waiting for the train, I found myself inexplicably drawn to her yet again. Stepping closer, I pressed myself against her, molding myself to the length of her delectable backside, and let my magic fingers loose on her shoulders. I smiled as she moaned softly in response, before somewhat regaining her well-formed illusion of composure for the benefit of the other commuters. True to form, she snapped unconvincingly, "And exactly what is it that you think you are doing, Special Agent McCarty?"

I couldn't help but laugh as I leaned in closer, still massaging her shoulders, and I mimicked the PA system, "Don't mind me. I'm just minding the gap, Rosie."

Although she tried to hide it, I caught the amused smirk that played at the corners of those perfect, kissable lips. I made note that she didn't pull away from my fingers as I continued to massage her shoulders and biceps; surprisingly, I felt her relax and lean into me. I sensed victory, and moved in to claim it.

Sadly, at that very moment, the train arrived and she stepped away from me to enter the car. She took a seat and I slid in beside her feeling grateful that she chose a seat that faced the platform, because I was concerned that my girth might squish her, making a less than favorable impression. I put my arm across the seat, and she leaned back against my arm. I twirled her hair in my finger, and moved to massage the back of her neck and the base of her skull. A soft moan escaped her lips as her eyes fluttered closed, and I felt myself stiffen in response.

We rode in silence, our bodies communicating where our voices could not. Before I knew it we were at her stop, so we rose to exit the train, never losing contact. I kept my hand at the base her neck as we made our way up to the street. Once we were above ground, I tucked her into my side again, and we walked the final distance to her place. We reached her building, and made our way up to her flat.

As we reached the door, she pulled out her key and attempted to open her door, but she was clearly having trouble. I let her fumble with the key for a few moments, until I couldn't stand it any longer. Once again, I pressed myself against her back. I placed my right hand on her hip to steady her as she was swaying slightly, and I placed my left hand over hers guiding her key into the lock. Smiling to myself, the symbolism is not lost on me. Her proximity is intoxicating. Everything about this creature draws me in, and I can't seem to help myself in her presence. The formality and professional distance had seemingly dissolved completely at this point, presumably due to the copious amounts of sangria we'd imbibed. Of course, I'd also had a few pints at the pub with the boys before the party, so that likely leveled the playing field between us.

"Special Agent, McCarty…" She turned to face me, and there were only inches separating us. We were nearly standing nose to nose, or nose to Adam's apple due to her sexy-as-hell mile high leather boots. I felt my cock stiffen at her proximity, signaling me to either stand down, or ravish her on the spot. Her scent enveloped me, and in moments, any shred of self-restraint I may have had would be gone.

Just as I was about to take a step backward, Rosalie looked up at me through her lashes, her deep blue eyes searching mine, for what I had no clue. Then, the next thing I knew, her hands were fisting my coat, and her tongue peeked out from between her delectable lips as she pulled me in, stood on her tiptoes, and pressed her lips to mine. Instinctively, I folded her into my arms and deepened the kiss, pressing her against the door. I felt her teeth sink into my bottom lip demanding entry, and our tongues danced together as she wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her body against mine, matching my intensity.

Her left arm left my neck, and suddenly we were stumbling through her door, our lips still locked, tongues still doing a slow, torturous tango, escalating the heat between us. Rosalie unbuttoned her coat and let it slide to the floor, and then she began to work on the buttons of mine as she trailed fervid kisses from my chin to my Adam's apple down to the opening of my shirt causing me to groan audibly as my cock twitched in response. I ran my hands along her back exploring her curves, my large hands finding their way to her backside, and my palms cupped her luscious ass firmly as if they'd found their way home like a pair of homing pigeons. As soon as I squeezed her cheeks and pulled her closer, I felt her shudder and whimper into my chest.

Rosalie kissed her way back up my neck as I languidly traced the curve of her ear with the tip of my tongue, nipping at the cartilage and lobe with my teeth causing her to moan softly, and once again, grab my shirt. Meeting my lips, her tongue found mine again. It occurred to me that just kissing had never, ever felt like this before Rosalie. My next thought was that I could kiss this woman for eternity.

She steered us into her living room, using my shirt as her rudder, our lips, tongues and teeth still exploring each other relentlessly. She traced my lips with her tongue and walked me backward until my calves were pressed up against her sofa. She released my shirt with her left hand and palmed the length of my shaft, fueling my arousal and eliciting a groan from me.

A smile played on her lips as she rubbed the front of my jeans and cooed, "Mmmmm…I'd say someone was enjoying himself."

I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation, wondering just how far we were going to take things tonight, and sighed, "Oh, you have no idea, babe…no idea. You are exquisite…. I…"

It was her turn to silence me, and just as I had done earlier, she laid her perfectly manicured index finger on my lips, and whispered, "You talk too much. Shhhhh…no talking…just feel."

Obeying her, I stuck my tongue out and licked her fingertip in response, drawing it between my lips, and caught the soft pad of her fingertip between my teeth and slowly teased the soft, fleshy part of her finger with the tip of my tongue eliciting yet another shudder.

In response, she slid her finger from between my teeth, put her hands squarely on my chest and pushed me backward causing me to fall back onto the sofa. Before I could react, she was on top of me, her knees on either side of me, straddling me. Melting into me, her lips on mine, sucking my tongue into her mouth seductively, she settled onto my lap, and the skirt of her dress rode sexily high on her thighs. When she began grinding her panty-clad pussy against me, I thought I would explode.

I moaned loudly as my hands trailed lightly along her side from her hips to her shoulders and back again. The skirt of her dress was now bunched up around her waist revealing a clearly drenched bit of lace. I let my hands wandered to her breasts, and found her nipples straining against the fabric of her dress aching to be touched. As I broke our kiss, I placed open mouth kisses along her jawline and down the slope of her neck while I drew small circles around her nipples with my thumb eliciting another shudder.

Encouraged by her responsiveness, I took both nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, pinching and rolling them, causing Rosalie to swear and rock back and forth, her grinding taking on a frenzied pace. I knew if we kept this up, I was going to have a situation that was going make the ride home a bit embarrassing. Yet, I was so consumed with her that I couldn't stop. Neither of us could. Nor were either of us thinking about the consequences we would have to live with following this night. We had to work together. More than that, we had to co-lead our joint team into an extremely dangerous mission, but in the moment, that was clearly the furthest thing from our minds.

She kissed me deeply, and took one of my hands from her breast, and guided it between her thighs. She opened her gorgeous blue eyes, and stared into mine as lead my hand beneath her panties. She was _so _wet. I ran my fingers along the length of her lips, finding her entrance and dipping my finger inside her, teasing her, adding a second finger and a third as my thumb traced lazy circles around her clit. I watched her memorizing how her body reacted to my touch as she rocked against my hand trying to find the pressure and friction she needed. I matched her intensity and pace; giving her what she needed as I trailed light kisses along her collarbone. Feeling her body shudder and tense, I knew she was close, so without saying a word, I slid one finger from her while the others continued to work her over. Without missing a beat, I took her clit between my thumb and forefinger and squeezed, gently at first, and when she moaned and shuddered against me, I increased the pressure, lightly pinching and rolling her swollen nub while she screamed loudly and swore like sailor on shore leave as her climax rolled through her in waves.

Just as her orgasm began to subside, and she leaned into kiss me again, her phone rang. She broke our kiss, reached over to the side table, and looked to see who was calling.

"Bloody fucking hell! Sorry, it's my father. I have to take this."

I nodded in reply as she climbed off me, crossed the room, and answered her phone.

"Hi Daddy…."

She spoke with her father for a few minutes, and from her side of the conversation it appeared that there was something up with our mission. I heard her telling her dad goodbye, and that she'd see him soon. The next thing I knew she'd picked my coat up off the floor from the entry way, and was standing in front of me.

Holding my coat out to me, she gutted me, "Emmett, you have to go. My dad is on his way over. It wouldn't do for you to be here when he arrives."

"Ummm…Okay, babe. Whatever you say, Rosie."

Giving me a look that was both lethal and full of disdain, she continued, "Yes, and about that. From this point forward, I am Rosalie or Special Agent Hale to you, McCarty. We musn't let what happened tonight cloud our professional relationship. We both have a job to do, and we must work together to lead the team."

"Agreed. Can I cook you dinner tomorrow night, Special Agent Hale?"

"I don't think that would be appropriate."

"Unfuckingbelievable, you can grind on me for nearly an hour, happy ending included by the way, but you think me making you dinner is inappropriate?"

"No need to be rude. You need to leave. My father will be here any minute."

Shaking my head in disbelief, I stand up to leave, "This isn't over, Blondie. Not by a long shot."

"This isn't anything, Special Agent McCarty." She strode over to me one last time, grabbed me by the shirt, and I leaned in for the kiss but wound up kissing her palm instead. "One other thing, if anyone on either of our teams catches wind of what transpired here this evening, any sentimental dreams you might have of someday settling down in the country with a nice girl and having a huge passel of kids like dear ol' mum and dad will be dashed. I assure you." With that she grabbed the erection that was still straining against my pants and squeezed making me groan in response.

I couldn't help, but bait her since she'd reverted back to being Queen Bitch, "Oooo, scary. I'm shaking in my boots, Rosie. Don't you worry your pretty little head. My mama raised me to be a gentleman, and gentlemen do not kiss and tell."

I was delighted to see that this had rendered her mute, so I opted to take the high road. "I'll go now, because I'd rather not meet your father socially under these circumstances. However, if you think you can you can dismiss me like you dismiss those little toadies on your team, you are woefully mistaken, woman. This is not even within the realm of being finished."

With that, I took her by surprise by grabbing her by her shoulders and planting a chaste kiss on her forehead, and then, I turned on my heel and left, not looking back.

The throbbing in my head pulls me from the memories from last night, as the alarm blares again. This time I turn it off, and sit up in bed contemplating heading to shower, so I can wake up and relieve some of this pent up tension.

There's no avoiding this. I have to be at MI6 in an hour and a half, so it's time to drag my sorry ass out of bed, and get ready to face the music. In this case, the music is in the shape and form of one, Special Agent Rosalie Hale. The woman is diabolical and deadly. It will be a miracle if this woman isn't the end of me.


End file.
